Reflections in a Broken Mirror
by NeverWonder
Summary: She's been spiraling out of control for so long, forgetting herself, and suddenly it's all catching up to her.


**Spoilers**: Episode 4.06 "Glease"  
**A/N:** I'm extremely disturbed by Rachel's downward spiral and the fact that it hasn't been addressed. So I decided to address it myself in this crazy thing. Please forgive me if it's offensive or if I handled things poorly. It's been awhile since I've written, and I'm rusty.

* * *

_i._

It starts with little things, like not wanting to go to class, not eating, and closing herself up in her room at night instead of joining Kurt for Barbra Night. She says she's just focusing on rehearsal because Cassandra July is such a bitch, and she's worried that she'll get kicked out of NYADA. Even the way she talks is different. She swears more, when she's speaking at all, and Kurt swears he saw her smoking several times in the last few weeks. There are nights when he hears her crying in her room, but when he tries to talk to her she screams at him to get out. Then she apologizes and blames the stress. Later she acts like nothing is wrong. It started a month ago after Christmas, when she found out that Brody had lied about being forced to sleep with Miss July, and she's been getting worse. She says that she's alright, that she's just angry at herself for believing his lies, but Kurt's starting to think it's more than that. This most disturbing part is that she doesn't sing much anymore. His best friend is falling apart at the seams, and he has no idea how to help her.

"Get the hell out of my apartment!" Kurt hears her shouting from the bottom of the stairs, and he knows something is wrong. "I said get out!"

"Come on, Rachel," Brody's voice makes him sick, and he races up the stairs as fast as his feet can carry him.

"I hate you!" He can hear the tears in her voice, and Brody nearly knocks him over in his haste to escape.

Rachel refuses to talk to him when he comes in, and she won't even look at him. Instead she retreats to her little corner and begins to practice pique turns, ignoring his attempts to find out why the man he nicknamed as the Donkey Boy had been in their home. He offers to order Chinese for dinner, and she gives him a noncommittal shrug. She no longer argues for vegan options, not that she was the greatest vegan to begin with, but this is so much worse. When she does eat she doesn't seem to care, and she seems to have abandoned her usual health nut diet. When the food arrives, he offers to set hers our, but she doesn't respond. Instead she just keeps doing her turns until she's too exhausted to continue, and when she goes to bed, Kurt sits alone in the dark, wondering if maybe this is all his fault. There's something very wrong with Rachel Berry even if she won't admit it.

_ii._

Nothing here is the way it's supposed to be. She's lonely all the time, even with Kurt. New York isn't the way she dreamed it would be, and she's lost. At first she blames it on her break up with Finn, but the longer it goes on the more obvious it becomes that she has no idea what the problem really is at all. The only thing she does know is that it's not getting better. Cassandra July torments her, calls her fat and frumpy, and seems hell bent on destroying her. Her voice instructor tells her she's pitchy and doesn't breathe properly. So much for talent, because might as well be a talentless hack in this school. Everyone here seems so much better than she is at everything. Brody lied to her, and now she seems him following a new girl who recently enrolled for the spring. The new had worn off, and so she wasn't interesting to him anymore. She's not special, and she's beginning to think that she never was. She doesn't feel right anymore, and she can't remember the last time she was truly happy. Sometimes she wonders if she even belongs in New York.

The apartment is miserable; she doesn't even want to speak to Kurt. She fights with him more often now; even her best friend isn't her friend anymore. New York is lonely and empty, and now so is she. She feels like crying all the time. She only sings in class, when she has to, because none of the music sounds right. Her voice cracks when she sings "Defying Gravity", the note so far out of reach that she thinks she must be deathly ill. But there's nothing physically wrong with her except stress and exhaustion. Kurt begs her to rest, but sleep evades her. And when she does sleep she gets no rest. When she's not sad, she's angry. She's angry at everything. The universe for pulling her from Finn, and Finn for not knowing what he wants so they can be together. New York for not being a dream come true, and her dreams for not being enough. But more than anything she's angry at herself.

She's been pretending for so long now, ever since she accepted that Finn had put her on that train for her own good and because he loved her. New York is supposed to be a fairytale not a nightmare. Coming here is supposed to make everything better because she belongs here. She's done everything she's supposed to do so why isn't it better now? She's changed her look, her attitude, and her habits. She's become this new person, the kind of person who belongs. She's a New Yorker now, and yet, everything is still wrong.

"I'm exactly what you wanted me to be!" They're fighting again—she and Kurt—and this time it's about how he thinks something's wrong because she's changing so much. "I'm chic and stylish. I'm exactly the fabulous best friend in New York City you wanted!"

"Rachel, sweetie, I never wanted you to be someone else." He reaches out to touch her hand, and she jerks away like he's on fire and storms off to her room.

"I don't even recognize my own reflection anymore, Kurt!"

She practices through her tears; when the apartment becomes unbearable, she seeks solace in an empty dance studio. All the vocal practice rooms were full, and she feels like she's losing her voice anyway. She works until she stumbles on a releve and falls, bruising her knees; instead of getting up to try again, the tears come, and she falls apart completely. She's never felt so broken before or so very lost.

_iii_.

"I know you have a date, Finn, but this is important." Calling Finn is probably a mistake, but he's desperate.

"I don't have a date; Karli and I didn't work out, and we decided to stay friends." He sounds so tired, and Kurt feels guilty for even bothering him. "What's going on, Kurt?"

"I know you and she have this no contact rule, but I'm worried about Rachel. She's—she's not herself, and it's my fault." He can hear Finn's intake of breath, and he knows his brother is angry with him. "She's coming apart at the seams."

"I can't save her, Kurt; I'm not superman, and she doesn't need me." He and Finn have had this conversation a thousand times, about how useless Finn feels. "She's not the Rachel Berry who needs Finn Hudson anymore."

"Please, Finn, just help her." He hangs up the phone and buries his face in his hands because Rachel is lost, and he helped her lose herself.

She's throwing things in her room; none of its fragile, and she throws like a girl anyway. So there's no danger that something will get broken. It's one of those days. A throw pillow hits the full length mirror, knocking the blanket that covers it down, and when she sees her reflection she begins to cry again. She's never hurt like this before, never hated herself. Sure, she'd been disappointed in her behavior, but she'd never hated her own reflection. Now she doesn't even recognize the young woman staring back at her, and that was terrifying. She sinks to the floor and allows herself to sob because she's lost and she can't find her way back home.

"Rach?" She doesn't look up; she just hugs her knees to her chest and cries. "Rachel, it's me."

"Go away, Kurt." But it isn't Kurt, and when his arms wrap around her, she buries her face in the familiar warmth of Finn's chest.

"Rachel, come on, look at me." Shame prevents her from meeting his gaze.

"Just leave, Finn. Go away." He can feel her tears through his shirt. "I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want you to see me at all."

But Finn refuses to leave. He holds her for what seems like hours, and she sobs against him, her entire tiny frame shaking. She can't hold onto the fantasy anymore; she can no longer pretend. New York is ugly, and life is hard. She's lonely and hurt and scared, and she can't hide it anymore. She has to admit that she doesn't know how to be herself anymore.

"You are the one and only Rachel Berry." He murmurs when she admits it, and that's when she finally pulls herself away from him.

"I don't know who that is, Finn. I don't even recognize my reflection. None of this is the way it's supposed to be. You're supposed to be here, Finn, with me, and New York is supposed to make everything better. But it's worse." The tears stream down her face. "I've been hiding for so long that I can't find my way back. I'm sorry; I'm so sorry."

"Shh, its ok, Rach; you'll figure it out. You always do. You are strong and smart and beautiful; you are special, and you just need to remember that." He reaches for her, and it only takes a moment for her to fall back into his arms. "It'll get better, and you'll be ok."

"Will we be ok?" She doesn't mean to ask, but the question slips out before she can stop it.

"We'll find our way back; I promise." One hand strokes her hair. "You find Rachel, and I'll find Finn; when we find them, then we'll find us again. I promise."


End file.
